


The Glue That Holds

by Tangerine



Category: Mary Balogh - Bedwyn series
Genre: Gen, Yuletide, challenge:Yuletide 2007, recipient:Lys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-12-25
Updated: 2007-12-25
Packaged: 2017-10-18 18:43:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/192034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tangerine/pseuds/Tangerine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With Alleyne returned to them, the Bedwyns enjoy some Bedwyn-esque quiet time together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Glue That Holds

"Brandy?" Wulfric asked, his back to his siblings. He did this to hide the shaking in his hand, which had not subsided through dinner. Just when he thought it had eased, he would look at Alleyne and feel the tremor again. If they noticed, they said nothing.

"Just hand me the bottle, Wulf," Freyja said with a laugh. "One each will do!"

Morgan stepped up beside him, looking at him with a serious expression. He returned it, uncomfortable with the look in her eyes. Morgan hid things better than any of them, even him, and that had always unsettled him. Without a word, she took the glasses he handed to her.

Once his brothers' wives, his sisters' husbands, and all their children had been ushered off to bed, he had given the servants the night off. Tonight was a private affair, and Wulfric would have no interruptions. He would gladly serve his siblings with his own self.

If London society could see the Duke of Bewcastle now, doing a servants' work, there would surely be a scandal. _To hell with them_ , Wulfric thought, handing the next set of glasses to Morgan's waiting hands. They had never understood them, and never would.

Wulfric took the final two glasses and handed one to Aidan, who accepted it with a bow. Like Wulfric and Morgan, who sipped daintily at her brandy in a perfect mockery of a fine young lady, Aidan held back from the tangle of limbs Rannulf and Freyja had made around Alleyne. Had Wulfric been anyone else, he might have thought to join them.

"To Alleyne," Rannulf said, grinning. "The finest looking corpse in England."

"To Free," Alleyne replied. "Who has decided I do not need to breathe."

"To Aidan." Freyja laughed with a very unladylike chortle. "Who would agree you deserve whatever punishments I can think to give, and I assure you, they will be plenty."

"To Morgan," Aidan said, after only a slight pause. "On her happy and well deserved nuptials."

"To Wulfric," Morgan said softly. "The glue that holds us all together."

Wulfric looked at her briefly, his fingers lingering on his quizzing glass, then bowed his head. Rannulf expressed a hearty, "here, here!" Which Alleyne and Freyja echoed with an embarrassing amount of force, Freyja splashing half a cup of brandy on Alleyne's knee.

Wulfric sat down on the edge of his desk, regarding his siblings. He could remember them as children, hellions the likes of which society had never seen. Even as adults, they seemed to cause a scandal wherever they went. Aidan, with his coal-miner's-daughter of a wife, and Rannulf, whose handsome good looks had tempted more than one woman into sin. Freyja, who was a product of brothers and not a proper lady at all, and Alleyne, who they had all thought was dead and had visibly grieved only to have him suddenly returned. And Morgan, who had married a French exile that Wulfric had openly despised

And who could forget the Duke of Bewcastle, who was still without a wife or heir.

Wulfric stared into his brandy, a tightness in his chest that rose and waned with each beat of his heart. He clenched one hand into a fist, hiding it at his side, and took a deep drink, relishing in the burn. It centred him, and gave him strength where strength was needed.

Wulfric looked up as Aidan shouted suddenly, followed by the crashed of a glass as it shattered against the floor. Rannulf had grabbed the unsuspecting Aidan by the waist, hauling him onto the couch. Alleyne, almost hidden by Rannulf's large frame, had Freyja's arm around his neck as she held him as a shield. Aidan landed hard across Rannulf's thighs, flailing in a very undignified way before falling hard onto the ground.

"Hell!" Aidan said, with passion, causing Rannulf, Alleyne and Freyja to laugh heartily. Wulfric saw it before they did. Aidan grabbed Rannulf by the leg and tugged him down to the floor, narrowly missing being crushed, then moved his attentions to Alleyne.

Freyja, not one to be outdone by mere men and never by her brothers, climbed on top of the jumble and crossed her legs, looking pleased. "Morgan, my dearest sister ..."

"I'm quite happy over here," Morgan replied, at Wulfric's side again, her skirts brushing at his calves. She placed a hand on Wulfric's arm and smiled up at him. "I shall enjoy you all from a distance with Wulf, who will protect me should you try anything."

"She must be," Rannulf grunted as Freyja settled more firmly, "ashamed of us."

Morgan smiled. "Oh, most assuredly."

"I'm ashamed of us," Aidan muttered breathlessly. "You're all rather heavy."

Alleyne laughed. "Freyja, he means you." He yelped as Freyja grabbed hold of his hair and twisted, causing Alleyne to writhe in what Wulfric knew to be real agony. Below him, Aidan and Rannulf groaned, shoving at each other, until the knot finally unravelled.

The four of them collapsed on the floor, panting, laughing.

 _The Bedwyns_ , Wulfric thought, _in all their glory_.

Wulfric regarded them quietly, one hand on his brandy glass, the other on his quizzing glass. The tension in his chest eased slightly, and he found a smile threatening his lips. Morgan leaned into him, pressing her forehead to his shoulder, and he exhaled sharply.

Morgan, as if she knew his mind, took his hand and squeezed it around quizzing glass.

"We were broken," she whispered in his ear, "and now we are healed."

Wulfric, letting go of his quizzing glass, squeezed her small hand in return, steady.

  



End file.
